


the soft pink-stained morning

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Series: kinsukuroi (broken pieces laced with gold) [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Caleb Widogast Deserves Nice Things, Caleb Widogast Has Issues, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I mean it’s Caleb when is it not angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: After the asylum escape, before they are truly a duo, Nott has to make a decision.
Series: kinsukuroi (broken pieces laced with gold) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840738
Comments: 2
Kudos: 109





	the soft pink-stained morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is set soon after the first installment of this series but before everything else

Nott bent over his hands, tongue poking out between sharp teeth, "Just hold on, I think I’ve almost got this one." The lock clicked, her skills and thieves tools coming in handy once again.

The man before her hummed, eyes glazed over, staring off into the tree line.

Nott had felt satisfied that they were far away enough from the asylum that no one would come looking for them anytime soon.

She hadn’t really intended on going to the asylum, much less stealing a fucking insane person from them, but life was like that sometimes, she supposed. One wrong piece of misinformation, finding her target going to an asylum instead of the next town over, deciding to hell with it and following him anyways... well. It had all been fucked from the start.

That lovely cherry wine was still with the rich asshole who she’d hoped to take it from and instead she found herself with a man who wouldn’t look her in the eye.

His hair was shoulder-length, a matted and tangled red mess, but surprisingly clean. There were dark bruises under his eyes, eyes which had caught her attention and pity and what had initially convinced her to take him with her. They were a piercing blue, like the wild cornflowers that had used to grow outside her house or the clear summer sky, bright but hollow and empty. The exact shade of her son's eyes, but tainted by the brutalities of reality.

Nott unlatched the manacles carefully, hissing as she saw how worn his wrists were from the chafing. She eyed the runes and then put them in her bag with the stuff she’d taken off the guards. (There hadn’t been much on them, a few gold and silver, and one very expensive looking amulet.) 

"Alright. There we go. You can... do magic freely I suppose. That’s what they stopped right?"

He blinked and looked down, almost not quite there, "Ja. I can’t remember much."

He flexed his fingers and she really ought to find water to wash those with, but the mere thought of water made her want to throw up so that could wait until much later. For now, she had her new nameless charge who could quite possibly turn on her in her sleep and gut her. 

There _had_ to be a reason he was in that place after all.

His fingers twitched imperceptibly and from his shaking bloody fingers grew four globules of light. He gaped with wonder and awe, " _Schiesse_ , it’s been awhile."

Nott stared, watching as with a clumsy flick of his fingers they moved, twirling around her before illuminating their small clearing. His brows furrowed, breath hitching, "Where are we? What’s going on?"

Nott frowned at him with confusion and uneasiness, "We broke out of that place remember?"

He blinked, hair shining orange-red in the glow of the globes of lights dancing overhead.

After one terrifying moment in which she regretted everything that had lead up to this moment with a magical crazy person in the middle of nowhere, he nodded, "Ah yes. Little one. Nott the Brave." His fingers were scratching at his arms again. Nott eyed him worriedly.

She might have to dump him in the next town over.

Nott watched him stare off into nothing, clearly not in the same place or time where she found herself.

She was definitely dumping him soon.

Her split second decision had obviously been a mistake.

* * *

She woke in the night to screaming. Nott scrambled to her feet, eyes wild, crossbow at the ready, "What? What is it?"

The man whimpered and she turned to look at him.

He was curled into a fetal position, fingers digging into his hair, tears running down his cheeks. His eyes were open, staring into the small fire she’d started after he’d fallen asleep. It had been a hard battle but she’d won all the same and now had a warm meal in her belly.

Nott dropped her crossbow and darted forward to kneel by his side, hands hovering and completely unsure, "Hey! Hey, it’s okay! There’s nothing there!"

He cried out, screaming something unintelligible to her ears, Nott touched his shoulder, "Hey-!”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down, hair messy, skin shining with sweat, and eyes wild, staring through her without really seeing, "Please-  please , take them out- _bitte_ I’ll- I’ll do anything just get it  out of me,  _bitte_ -“ it devolved as his eyes caught the light of the fire again, voice growing into a desperate broken wail, "Make the burning stop-!"

Nott blinked, something heavy settling in her stomach, her voice turned soft and gentle- something she hadn’t used since Luc had trouble sleeping, "Hey, hey, here-“ without a second thought she stamped out the fire that she had worked so hard to build, before turning back to him, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness, "It’s gone, it’s out."

He whimpered, hiding his face in his hands, fingers digging like claws into his skin.

Nott knelt and gently shushed him, a hand reaching out hesitantly to brush the matted hair away from his face, "Hey, there. It’s alright now. I’ve got you, I’ve got you."

For a moment, she wasn’t Nott and this man wasn’t a stranger, for a moment she was Veth Brenatto and the stranger was her boy and he had a mother to watch over him. She clutched him close and whispered quiet nothings until he calmed.

His desperate broken cries died to whimpers and then to occasional moans and then nothing. His breathing slowed, his twitches eventually stilled and he became silent and peaceful in her arms.

He was asleep.

Nott didn’t want to move for fear of waking him so she remained still, his head in her lap, her hands in his hair. Luc had sat like this with her, down below in the goblin's camp. Before she’d been a monster. She could almost imagine that she was Veth-the-halfling and the boy next to her was Luc-her-son and all was right with the world.

Nott closed her eyes and imagined.

She didn’t notice that she had nodded off too until the morning came, dawn's first light reaching through the trees, exposing the harsh truth of the world. She was Nott-the-goblin and in her arms was a small broken boy with no name and no home and no mind. 

Nott had slumped back against a tree, her neck aching from the awkward angle and back protesting at the rough treatment of it by the bark. She blinked sleepily and looked down at the boy.

His fingers were threaded through hers, hers small and green and sharp- his big and soft and bloodied.

She swallowed thickly and loosed his fingers, wincing as he whined in his sleep, head in her lap.

There no way he wouldn’t end up back in that place if she left him in the closest town. She shuddered to think of him back in that windowless room, dark and dank and miserable- perfect, really, for a goblin- but torture for the halfling she'd used to be and undoubtedly just as bad for a human.

As she sat thinking, the man's eyes opened, staring up at her before his brows furrowed. She watched as the events of last night came back to him, slowly, the strange fog in his blue eyes receding slightly.

He spoke, finally, voice hoarse, "It’s... it’s six twenty-three in the morning, N- Nott."

Nott looked at him- bloody and filthy and completely mad but apparently brilliant, a strange bewildering juxtaposition in her green goblin hands.

"I suppose that it’s time we move on then, huh?"

The stray she’d picked up (and was unfortunately definitely starting to mother) merely looked at her puzzled, mouth opening and closing, "There... there was something I was supposed to tell you, I- I think."

Nott smiled tightly, preoccupied with her accursed softness to blue-eyed boys who reminded her of her son when they weren’t losing their mind, "I’m sure you’ll remember it eventually."

The man hummed, "I don’t think I want too."

Nott squeezed his shoulder, "Then don't. It's not worth it." 

It wasn’t. For now, though, for now Nott would struggle with the softness of her heart and the water in her lungs that had warped her so and the nameless mad man beside her would struggle to think of his own past and try not to drown in fire.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is here: https://ford-ye-fiji.tumblr.com/


End file.
